Sin City: Welcome to Hell (PM for info)

[lil_squirter]

It was raining.

Something new for Basin City and the surrounding neighborhoods, rain was a rarity. It washed things clean, purified the streets, soaked into the ground and flooded the soil with it's redeeming liquid. Even in Old Town the rain was a thing of purity. It washed away the sins and blood and smell of sex mingled with cheap booze and stale smoke.

A week ago the sun had shone.

A week ago birds had the balls to chirp.

A week ago a good man died.

No, he wasn't a good man. Truth be told Marv might have been a real bastard, but he avenged my sister. In my books that counts a as big win on the side of the angels. A week ago they shoved him in a chair and pulled a switch to make him human barbeque. A week ago I got a new piece of jewelry, not flashy, not meant for show, the cross tucked neatly between the soft downy mounds of my breasts. Marvs cross, mine now. My way to remember the man who brought peace to my soul, or if not peace at least it was something that let me sleep. Revenge maybe, just as good as peace.

Goldie, God I miss her. Feels like part of me died. Hard to walk through life missing an arm. Phantom pains they call it, and I have them all the time. Only it's not just an arm or leg or fingers...it's all of me. Gail and the girls help, good girls every last one of them. They work hard, stick together and take care of each other. Hell of a lot more then I've been able to do lately. Not much of a leader these past few weeks, I haven't been much of anything. But Gail's here, she's my strength... it's funny. All these years Goldie was telling me to ease up, relax, I'm too serious and I need to live. She went and died and I fall to pieces. Ain't life a funny thing?


It was raining.

The night they buried what was left of Goldie, Old Town takes care of it's own. We buried my sister here, not even enough for a casket. Just a small box and some big words. Alotta people died for what they did to my sister, one man never should have.

Damnit Marv, why you?

Damnit Goldie, why not me?

Damnit God...who the hell are you anyway?

Cops bleeding on the streets, that coulda cashed us all in real quick. That one Dwight took care of nearly destroyed Old Town, cops need to know better then to come here. Now they do. Nothing they could prove just enough to make them remember why their jurisdiction ends at the bridge. This is Old Town, our town. My town.

Cold glass feels good on my skin, pressing my forehead to it to try and soak in that cool rain drenched clean on the other side. Feels damn good, feel like the world is crying and maybe if it does I can stop for a while. My fingertips brush over that cross, it feels warm, smooth, comforting. I hard ly knew him really. Goldie knew him less. But I owe him everything. My heart breaks again for that dead hulk of man who avenged my sister.

But then again, it's easy to love a dead man, they never let you down.

(See here for the OOC thread)

 

[chronicle_tenko]

Marv

The first drop was the loudest. Like the hammer cocking Gladys. One loud angry drop upon the cheap wood of his coffin. So this was being dead. Listening to the drub of the world around you. Bored and staring at a cheap pine box.

The second drop was quieter but no less threatening, and the rain fell.

It was raining.

And I woke up because my coffin leaked. Blood pumped slowly at first and I coulkd feel the familiar pins and needles like I'd slept on my arms. But it was everywhere. I was alive again. Just like a week ago.

A week ago I was still in Jail.

A week ago I was waiting to die.

A week ago I was alive again for the first time in 18 months. Alive enough that they had to fry me twice to get me to die. And It still wasn't enough. I could see Goldie, thoguh. When I was dead, Could smell her perfume and touch her perect skin. By god I could taste the sweat off her body. the Lord really must be merciful, even afer all that I did 18 months ago, he stoill offered me a piece of heaven.

Drops in a steady rain, Dripping against my face, my clothes my mitts. My mitts, I balled up and slammed and the coffin budged. Again and again, I don't know how long I hammered but the cheap wood broke. Wet earth fell over the Dirty bloodstained clothing I was wearing. Bastards who buried me must have had a closed casket funeral; Just like I was always told I'd get.

I dug, dirt and worms, and all other things under my nails and through me. It felt good to get dirty. I couldn't even keep my eyes shut As I dug. how much land did a man need I got asked once, One of them rhetorical questions I suppose. But Six feet is the answer. I said Seven for my height.

I burst out looking like all the world like one of them men from the bible. Rotted and risen, regular Job or Jonah or someone. Dead man that Jesus brought back from the grave.

Why?

I went to grab my cross, and it wasn't there. Of course it wasn't. Goldie had it, She came like an angel of mercy and took it from me. I sure wouldn't need it where I was going, and her touch was all the heaven I would recieve. But I was alive now, and how could I look my momma in the eye without it? I shivered in the rain as it washed the Dirt from me. I'd need a coat.

I wandered towards Basin from the cemetery. Likely take me into Old town from there. Old town. Katie's. Goldie. I still loved her, Loved a dead woman. I had even died for her.

It's easy to love a dead woman, she'll never leave you more than once.

 

[Kuuroinochou]

Gail

Rain.

Miracle upon miracles... it doesn't rain often but when it does the world rejoices. The streets are cleaner now, the smell of sweat, sex and cheap booze is washed away. And the girls of Old Town come alive again.

I'm one of them. Gail. Yeah... a week ago to this day we could have had ourselves in a quandry of old school shit. Pimps, cops and vagabonds all the same. They could have ruined us, prostituted us and taken what we earned through an honest living (or as honest as a girl could get anyway). Stolen our streets, our home, our way of life right out from under us. But it was Dwight... my Dwight who had stuck his neck out for us to keep the girls safe.

A week ago to this day, we could have been enslaved and yet we are not. I can stand on this grimy rooftop and let the rain pour down over my dark creamy skin. I can feel the cool droplets in my mouth as the cool steel of my gun rests at my hips. Looking out like a hawk over the city, over our home, the sentry and second in command next to Wendy. Yes this is our home, my home and I'd go through hell and high water to protect it. Even kill a cop and his underhanded minions to do so. That Dwight... could never get enough of him and strangely I wasn't sure I wanted to.


Becky... she got what she deserved that scared little rabbit. I'd have pulled her little cotton tail right out from under her if given the chance. But as the smoke cleared that day, she wasn't among the dead boddies that we had to clear away. Somehow she had gotten away... it wasn't until today that word got around. Becky got her come-uppins. The bitch. I wanted to be the one to give it to her but whats done is done.

Rain.

It was like all the bad things from a week pass had been washed away on this new day. I wonder what's in store for us now?

 

[gagonthis]

Rain. I hate the rain. It makes it so hard to think straight.

Sin City doesn't see a lot of rain. A light storm every now and then, the droplets evaporating before they reach the hot streets below. But every now and then the desert kicks up a real storm, a storm for the ages and the heavens crack open and try to wash clean the scent of booze and death that surrounds this town like a body bag. It never works. The rain lasts a day but the smell is eternal. Welcome to Sin City.

I shake the snot out of my head and stand. Where am I? How'd I get here? The room looks like a flop house or a cheap room in any of the dozens of cheap motels scattered throughout town. My foot collides with something as I stand and sends it skittering across the floor.

A bottle.

Agamemnon used to joke, called me Clean Liver. I never touch the sauce. I can't afford to. Can't let the monster out. When you're one fingerprint check away from going to the gaschamber you don't let the monster out.

The creaky floorboard outside my door is the only warning I get. I heed it.

The door explodes inward like it was hit by a freight train, splinters whizzing through the air. I catch one across the cheek as I dive across the room, my guns seemingly a mile away.

Two men rush in guns spitting a symphony of death into the night's air.

Amateurs. They're shooting at where I was, not taking the time to aim. They're throwing away bullets like unwanted change. By all rights I should be dead.

I come up shooting. A real professional at work. I take my time, aim, make each shot count. The hammers sound like a gavel, and the thunder from each pistol signals the finality of my shots. Both men topple over shocked expressions on their face, what's left of their face anyway.

I frown as I quickly move to search the men. No identification, about two hundred bucks in twenties that this time I have no qualms about jamming into my own pockets. No badges either, thank God for the small things. Who sent these men? I'd made enough enemies in the past few weeks. Were these Wallenquist's goons? The Magliozzi Family? The BCPD?

Voices. Downstairs. Ear pressed against the door I heard the sound of hushed conversation. Then the very distinctive sound of a gun cocking. Time to take my exit. I kicked the bottle across the room where it smashed against the wall with a resounding smash as I grabbed my coat and hopped out the fire escape.

And things were going so well. Never let the monster out.

 

[lil_squirter]

Things never change, even in the rain the girls still worked the streets. The money and liquor flowed and Old Town staked it's claim on the night. I spit on the window, watch the watery trail slide down my refelction matching the rain that pounded the outside of the glass. Filth, we were all up to our necks in it and it would take more then this temporary deluge to wash us clean.

I could hear the sharp clacking of my heels on the hardwood floor, could hear that door creaking open letting me step out to the street. Gail was there, already looking out over the town in her vigil. Finger sink into the pocket at my hip, pulling out a small box. I knock a cigarette from the pack and offering one to the deadly mocha skinned woman to my side. I put another between my lips, red like blood, glowing like the cherry that soon tips the cancer stick. A deep draw...god that feels good. Filling up my lungs making the emptiness go away. Like having an empty bed, and empty heart...nothing ever felt the same.

"Dwight. He's welcomed here, whenever, whatever."

It was all that needed to be said, Gail would know the meaning, she would know it meant the protection of Old Town now extended to one man. These girls would know he was as much a part of their family as any one of them, and afforded all due respect. No one would touch him, you could smell Gail on that boy from a mile away, she marked her men and really..once Gail had had a man he was ruined for anyone else. Dwight was hers and she his in some sort of twisted double helix of death. Still...I was jealous..at least she had someone.

I stepped out, more into that rain, feeling it slid icy fingers down my scalp. Those wet chilly caresses slipping down my neck and over my skin like a dead lover. Weren't they all? More of those staccato foot steps as I made my rounds, checking my girls, checking my town. The rain turned my curls to liquid gold graffiti on the blackness of my coat. Wet spiral tendril slithered into my face like a thin snake, it made me smile. Something about ruin making me smile.

Self destruction was bad, sure I knew that, who didn't? But it was my life to destruct now wasn't it? I raised my arms, letting the rain wash over me, plastering the thin material of my shirt to my body, here came the wind. With it's howl I could hear Goldie, my sister..laughing. I could hear my girls talking about their tricks. I could hear Marv muttering on and on about nothing in particular.

Tomorrow the rain would be gone, but tonight it was my lover, giving me back all I had lost. I can forgive it for ruining my cig.

 

[Kuuroinochou]

Damn straight he is, Dwight had saved their asses all of them and he was owed free access to Old Town any day. Though I would not go so far as to say so to Wendy but she already knew so there was no reason to speak on it. I watched her as she popped out a cig, she passed one to me. Taking it I struck a match along the cool brick the only portion not drenched by the rain. It flaired to life to which I gave it over to the cig where it lit up. Tossing the match I took a long draw of the cig before letting a billow of smock plum from my nose and mouth into the damp air.

Watching Wendy for a while I knew the girl was fighting her own personal demons. With Goldie gone and Marv on top of that she had no one on her side. As far as warm arms to comfort her, someone close to her heart. Goldie had been her heart and for her to be taken so swiftly and quietly, it simply destroyed Wendy. Marv had only met Goldie during one night and with that meeting he seemed indepted to her to find her killer.

The girls and I had thought Marv did it but his little show case had proved otherwise. And the fact he could get free from my ropes well... that was appealing to say the least. I couldn't help the sly smirk that peeled my lips apart for a moment. Tossing the cig I turned to head back inside. Wendy would take over for now.

Using this time I dried off, and changed my gear into something more relaxing. The usual bondage gear to be certain. Again I decided against a mask sometimes I just didn't have it in me to wear those things. But a chain around my neck, that works.

Heading down into the streets it was time to make my rounds to check on the other girls and our few guests...

 

[chronicle_tenko]

Marv

Rain spattered against my body. A cleaning I sorely needed as the mud and earth on me washed away to the ground. Maybe this was some kind of second baptism, this time I wouldn't even spit at the priest doing it.

Cars went by and none stopped. I couldn't blame 'em. I wouldn't stop for a guy my size. Well I might but I am my size. Lights and flashes of it relfected off the rain, and I could hear the old sounds, feel the old rythym. I started making for the pits, always something happening there, always a car to boost there, and you usually never felt bad from taking it off someone who was dumping a corpse.

The Pits and the cemetery were kind of close. Maybe so those warrior angels didn't have so far to go to pick up the souls dumped in either. A hot rod. Good old american hardtop muscle. That was a ride.

Fat Man and Little boy. And a corpse. My lord could Sclubb and Klumpp actually have done something right. Or had taste in a vehicle. I doubted that, but they were taking something in canvas to the pits. Talking in that highbrow tongue they always did. And the car was sitting right there.

"All I'm saying Mister Klump is that whilst your choice of American Muscle does give us the fortitude to make it here and the hold for such Cargo as this body, it doesn't for two assasins to be traveling in a dilapidated, oxidized 68 mustang. And another thing, to this, is. MARV!"

"Marv my precocious undersized friend is dead. he was on death row and the lights went out when they juiced him. He is not coming back to haunt me ever again."

I listened to their blabber till I heard that. I'd been standing behind Fatman or Klump waiting admiring his coat from the shadows. He let the body fall and turned as I clapped my hands to either side of his head. Like the body he fell stunned as my palms closed his eyes, turning him off like a TV.

Schlubb or Little Boy aghast at what had happened barely managed to fall over dropping the body on him as he fumbled for something it might have been a gun, it might have been a knife. I've never been the type to really question that. A size 24 shoe slammed into his chest bouncing him up and crushing the hand holding whatever it was he was drawing. The wind knocked out of him he may have been trying for some witty statement, during the gasp. Again not something I was willing to hear or allow and another size 24 stomp later he was unconscious mumbling whatever he was mumbling to the dirt.

Fatman looked to be standing and he looked at me with terror. It was a nice coat, but this fat idiot didn't deserve to die. The body started to move and out struggled some frat boy brat. Now a few years older. I recognised this kid before. Setting a wino on fire. He was about 6'7, A center for his basketball team or something, rich and with a black lambskin coat. Soft leather. How useless, like the matrix shit. I saw remains of sunglasses on his face. Kid probably thought he looked like Neo.

"Keys Fatman. Toss em to me." Odd jingling from the trembling hands produced a faint tinkle as tiny metal pieces flew to my mitt. I caught em and looked to the kid. "That's one fine lookin' coat you're wearin'."

Some little time later Fatman was lying as unconscious as little boy frat boy was a twisted dead corpse and I had a new coat and ride for town. Yessir it was good to be alive.

 

[lil_squirter]

The rain was cold, turning colder.

Today was the first day I didn't go to his grave. I felt guilty but Gail says that's how you get over things. I see Goldie everyday though, shoulda brought Marv here but Icouldn't bring myself to have him dug up. Not now, not when he finally got to rest. The big lug deserved it, he deserved a lot better then this life had given him. Sure he was no looker, but he had a heart as big as the rest of him. He did what no one else woulda done, coulda done.

My Marv.

We were twins, me and Goldie, we shared everything. Guess that includes him. I never woulda looked twice at a guy like Marv before this, woulda been my loss all the way. I know I was one of the only people in the world that could say Marv would never hut me. He might be a killer and a madman, but I was never safer then when I was with him.

I feel he chill, that sort of cold that seeps through your skin and wraps around your bones. It's invasive and hard and violating, the kinda cold that haunts you long after you warm up. Cold like the grave, that's what it is. Funny how in the end it all comes back to life and death.

 

[chronicle_tenko]

Marv.

It was cold.

And christ it was getting colder. At least it was giving me a shower though. the dirt slicked off me leaving a mess on teh seats of the mustang I had. A good car, american muscle, just like me.

I turned up the collar. This thing really was a cheap coat after all, this soft lambskin shit they passed off as leather these days could never cut the mustard. Nothing was like it was. Not like in the good old ays and this car proved it. Rusted out, falling apart, and old as sin this Ford was still tough. it powered it's way back to the city limits. Back to the sign of falsehoods that said Basin City. Sin City.

Goldie. flashes of hair and her perfume and I almost spin the car out of control. It turns and skids in the rain, the wheels slicking across the tryign to find traction, grip on anything.

I'm sick. Seeing Goldie after I died, I need my medicine, but lucilles dead. I remember that. Kevin ate her hand, and then those cocksucker feds blew her away, those bastards who worked for Roark. But I got him back. For goldie.

I stopped the car and checked the glove box. Only one smoke left. I always heard these would kill me, but I guess that wasn't quite true. Pushing in the cigarette lighter I waited. Waited for it to heat, and turned on the radio.

Sing me back home with a song I used to hear
Make my old memories come alive
Take me away and turn back the years
Sing Me Back Home before I die

Merle Haggard. Easily a man I could trust, with his deep voice and the thick guitar, I listened the Car pulled over to teh side of the road, Listening to the strains of old country, old memories truly coming back to me. As my cigarette burnt down I tossed it in the tray, amidst the other butts, the full ash and dinge bringing me back to the grim reality I lived in. Country, A smoke, and Goldie. I needed to forget a moment, and I needed a brew.

Off I'd go then. To Katies.